


pretty

by zhujungjungting (runswithchopsticks)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Begging, Bottom!Jihoon, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Gagging/Choking, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink if you squint, Rimming, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, top!seongwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runswithchopsticks/pseuds/zhujungjungting
Summary: Seongwoo finds his boyfriend in the library.





	pretty

**Author's Note:**

> y'all, this was written real quick (and sort of jokingly) as a way of appeasing V and my thirst, lmfao  
> but it actually ended up kind of okay?(kinda like my second time attempting porn, and so why not just do all the kinks at once guys)

_start._

* * *

“Whatcha up to?”

Jihoon looks up from his textbook. “Hi, hyung!” he greets, cheerfully. “Just studying bio. I've got a test coming up next Monday.” He's in the very back of the university library, at a table in a corner behind several bookshelves. He'd chosen the spot since no one besides him was there--it's quiet, empty, and relaxing--Jihoon’s ideal studying spot.

Well, there used to be no one but him there.

Seongwoo slides into the chair next to him. He gives Jihoon a quick kiss on his cheek, smiling charmingly at his boyfriend. “Everything going well?” he asks.

“Mhm,” Jihoon hums, flipping a page in his textbook. “Don't you have to study too, hyung?”

Seongwoo shakes his head. “Nah, I got that covered,” he replies, casually, a grin on his face.

Jihoon sighs and smiles knowingly. If anything, Seongwoo's version of “I got that covered” means he's going to cram study the night before his tests.

Seongwoo leans back in his chair, the front legs rising off of the ground as he puts his feet up on the table and crosses his ankles.

Jihoon glances at him curiously, but Seongwoo just gives him a flashy smile and Jihoon turns back to his textbook.

Several minutes later, Jihoon glances next to him again. There's Seongwoo, still looking at him with a stupid smile on his face.

“What?” Jihoon asks. “Why are just sitting there looking at me? Don't you have something else to do?”

Seongwoo sighs. “Am I not allowed to admire how pretty my boyfriend is whenever I want?”

Jihoon swallows. He can already feel the blood rushing up his neck and his cheeks at Seongwoo’s words. Even though they've been dating for a fair amount of time now, Jihoon has still yet to get used to hearing someone like Seongwoo, so strikingly handsome and broad and flashy call him _pretty_. Jihoon doesn't even understand how he landed someone like Seongwoo in the first place.

“Well,” Jihoon begins, meekly, “isn't there something else that's more important, or you want to do more?”

Seongwoo suddenly takes his feet off of the table and leans forward so that his face is right next to Jihoon's.

Jihoon instinctively looks a little bit away, his skin even warmer than before at Seongwoo's close proximity.

“There is something else I want to do,” Seongwoo says. The pitch of his voice has changed slightly, just barely enough that Jihoon can hear.

“Then go do it,” Jihoon replies, softly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Seongwoo smile. “As you wish,” he says.

And before Jihoon even realizes it, Seongwoo is nuzzling at his neck. His lips run across the skin right at the corner of Jihoon's jaw, the touch so light and ticklish, before pressing a wet kiss right beneath his ear.

The hairs on the back of Jihoon's neck are standing up, goosebumps rising on his skin. “H-Hyung,” he stutters, “here?”

He feels Seongwoo smile against his neck. “There's no one here,” Seongwoo replies.

“But,” Jihoon begins, softly, his shoulders rising up as Seongwoo begins to press more wet kisses down the span of his neck, “someone could walk over here at any moment. I don't think it's a good idea, you--”

The hot breath on his ear a millisecond before is the only warning he gets.

“Is that any way to talk to your daddy, _baby_?”

Jihoon instantly freezes, shivers racking his spine at the sound of his pet name on Seongwoo's tongue. It absolutely never fails to get him riled up, absolutely never fails to get his skin hot, his limbs skittish, his breath rapid and panting. And Seongwoo knows this, knows it all too well.

Seongwoo notices Jihoon's lack of movement. He chuckles, the noise low and deep, and Jihoon is absolutely lost for words, because the sound is simply so _sexy_.

“Be a good boy for your daddy,” Seongwoo whispers, right in his ear, “let daddy have his fun today. Okay, baby?”

Jihoon swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He nods. “Okay, daddy,” he murmurs, his voice a little pinched and high.

“Good boy,” Seongwoo praises, the edge of a laugh peeking through his voice. He reaches up his hand, grabbing Jihoon firmly on the back of his neck, and kisses him roughly.

He doesn't even start with being gentle, he just shoves his tongue in Jihoon's mouth and Jihoon willingly lets him, the beginning of a whine at the back of his throat. He loves when Seongwoo exercises his dominance over him, forcing Jihoon to obey and follow, letting him kiss him filthily with all tongue and spit and suddenly Jihoon is drooling, his head dizzy as Seongwoo sucks on his tongue, their mouths hot and wet.

Seongwoo pulls back for air. There's a string of saliva between their lips, and he flicks his tongue out to break it. Jihoon almost lets out a moan at the action. He's far too aroused from simply kissing, but it seems that's what Seongwoo wants.

“D-Daddy,” Jihoon whispers, leaning in closer to Seongwoo, wanting to chase his lips. His eyes have fallen a little bit hooded, the edges of his vision blurry.

“My baby boy is so beautiful,” Seongwoo compliments, running a thumb across Jihoon's bottom lip, which is now redder and a little swollen. “So eager for daddy's kisses, hmm?”

Jihoon nods feverishly, his hair slightly flopping up and down. “Please, I want daddy to kiss me more.”

“Okay,” Seongwoo complies, smiling. “Because my baby asked so nicely.” He slides his hands around Jihoon's waist, tugging slightly. “Sit on daddy's lap so he can kiss you better.”

Jihoon instantly obeys, eagerly climbing on top of Seongwoo's thighs. There's a small voice in the back of his head that tells him that anybody who sees them in this position would instantly know what is going on, but Jihoon can't bring himself to care enough, especially when Seongwoo latches his lips onto his again. Their heights are perfect for this position, where Jihoon propped up on Seongwoo's lap gives him enough elevation so that they're face-to-face.

And there's Seongwoo's hand at the back of his neck again, firm and hot and unrelenting.

This time, Jihoon lets out a strained noise when Seongwoo bites down roughly on his lip and moves his tongue in such a way that Jihoon's whole body feels like it's being lit on fire just from a single movement.

“Be quieter, baby,” Seongwoo chides, pulling away. “Or else daddy won't be able to do more than just kiss you.”

Jihoon nods. “Okay, daddy,” he immediately agrees. “Please do more, Jihoon promises to be quiet.”

Seongwoo smiles. “Good boy,” he praises. There's a sudden dark glint in his eye, one Jihoon recognizes very well and he shivers with excitement.

And then Seongwoo roughly attaches his lips to Jihoon's neck, sucking and biting with such ferocity that Jihoon knows there's going to be marks. He has to bite down on his own tongue harshly to prevent himself from making any noises.

Seongwoo makes his way down, stopping right at Jihoon's Adam's apple. He pauses briefly, grazing his lips over the lump, before biting it firmly.

“Mmm--” Jihoon mewls, clamping a palm over his mouth.

“Look how beautiful you are, baby,” Seongwoo murmurs, staring at the mark he just made, “your skin turns such a pretty red when daddy bites it.”

Jihoon squirms at the praise. “T-Thank you, daddy,” he stutters, his voice thin and pitched.

And then Seongwoo slides his palms to the front of Jihoon's torso, resting right on his stomach. He smiles when he feels Jihoon shiver at the touch, skin hot and feverish.

Jihoon's back begins to arch painfully as Seongwoo moves his hands up, sliding his shirt up simultaneously. Jihoon squeezes his eyes tightly for a moment, his head thrown back because Seongwoo's touch is wrecking his body so much even though they've done this often. But Jihoon always feels similar to the first time they've done this, when he was much too excited and jittery and hot and _craving_ for Seongwoo to do more to him.

“Hold up your shirt for me, baby,” Seongwoo says, and Jihoon instantly complies. “Look at how beautiful your body is,” Seongwoo murmurs, running his hands up and down Jihoon's torso. “Daddy is so lucky to have such a pretty baby.”

If it is possible, Jihoon's face becomes even redder. “Yes,” he whispers.

And then Seongwoo rests his thumbs right on top of Jihoon's nipples. He leans forward, biting onto one of them as his fingertip rubs the other.

Jihoon makes a strained noise, biting on his tongue again. His wrists are shaking, hands threatening to let go of his shirt, but he won't because daddy told him to hold up his shirt.

Seongwoo smiles as the bud hardens. He sees that the patches of red have now climbed their way down Jihoon's chest, painting pretty splotches on his otherwise unmarred skin. He wants to add his own marks to those patches, make a trail of purple and red up Jihoon's body with the hopes that someone will see them and know that the pretty boy belongs to someone. Belongs to _Seongwoo_. But he's already created a few little nicks in inconspicuous spaces on the boy's neck (with the exception of that one on his Adam's apple), and Jihoon gets extremely shy and flustered and refuses to leave the apartment if Seongwoo has all his fun.

And besides, with the way Jihoon is panting, his face impossibly red, gaze downturned so that his eyelashes flutter against his skin, lips so swollen and scarlet with heavy and wet kisses, all Seongwoo wants to do now is bend him over and have his way with him.

But Seongwoo is also a tease. He wants to see, to hear Jihoon wrecked and desperate and _begging_.

He slides his palms around Jihoon's waist, hands resting right above the swell of his ass. His waist is so small, or maybe Seongwoo's hands are just big. But either way, Seongwoo loves how nicely his waist fits in his hands. It gives him good leverage when he's got one palm gripping tightly right above Jihoon's hip, the other one pulling his hair back forcefully as he pounds into him from behind.

The curve of Jihoon's back is so beautiful, Seongwoo thinks. He can feel goosebumps rise under the younger's skin, and he smiles.

“Up,” he commands, tapping on Jihoon's leg. “Your back towards me,” he adds, as Jihoon stands up.

His smile grows when he notices the very visible tent in the front of Jihoon's pants, the boy clearly very riled up. Seongwoo is proud he can make him feel that way, but he also can't wait to do _more_.

He stands up, pressing his palms to Jihoon's lower back. The latter automatically bends forward, palms bracing himself against the table.

And then Jihoon slightly turns his head and glances at him, and Seongwoo is punched in the stomach with a wave of lust.

Jihoon's eyes are dark, oily almost, despite being glazed over. His mouth is agape, panting, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. “Daddy,” he whispers, “please, daddy, touch me.”

Seongwoo almost comes right at that moment. “Where do you want daddy to touch you, baby?” he asks.

“Everywhere,” Jihoon replies, voice breathy.

Seongwoo lets out a noise, a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat. He runs his hands around Jihoon's waist and unbuttons his jeans before slowly dragging the material down his thighs, underwear in tow. He purposely takes his time, watching Jihoon with an enraptured interest. He smirks when he feels the cloth catch on the head of Jihoon's cock, who lets out a muffled whine in response, his shoulders shaking.

And then when both his pants and his boxers are down to his knees, Seongwoo leans in closer, his mouth hovering right next to Jihoon's ear, his hands placed on the boy's hips. Jihoon's back is facing him, so he can't exactly see his cock, but judging by the way Jihoon's breaths have become heavier, he's obviously painfully aroused.

Seongwoo's thumbs press harshly into the skin right above Jihoon's ass. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispers.

The only response he gets is a choked mewl. Jihoon's back arches even more. He rises slightly onto his toes and presses back, grinding his ass against Seongwoo behind him. Right over the tent in his jeans.

Seongwoo lets out another low noise. “Quite impatient, aren't you?” he growls, and moves his hands down lower, kneading into Jihoon's ass.

He loves it when Jihoon's shoulders shake violently, like he's about to collapse right on top of the table. He loves it when Jihoon makes a bunch of muffled little noises every time he presses his hands into soft flesh, sometimes digging his nails harshly in, the boy clearly struggling to remain quiet.

Seongwoo wants to see him struggle more.

He crouches down, his hands still placed on both sides of Jihoon's ass, and spreads apart his cheeks.

“A-Agh,” Jihoon chokes out, suddenly. The sound wasn't terribly loud, but Seongwoo still pauses. He pinches Jihoon on his thigh, and scolds, “What did daddy say about being quiet?”

“Sorry, d-daddy,” Jihoon whispers, his voice slightly hoarse.

Seongwoo turns his attention back to what's at hand. He smirks, leaning in and letting out a breath, right over Jihoon's hole. He watches it clench around nothing, as if trying to suck in air, and Jihoon makes a squirming noise.

“So beautiful,” Seongwoo murmurs. He reaches out an index finger, running it gently across Jihoon's rim, but not yet puncturing the ring of muscle.

“Please,” Jihoon whispers, his voice finally beginning to sound desperate, “please touch me there, daddy, _please_ \--” His back is now arching impossibly deep, and Seongwoo is beginning to lose focus with lust.

“Look how needy you are for daddy's touch,” he says, smiling, “look how desperate my pretty little baby is. Tell me, how badly do you want daddy to touch you?”

And then Jihoon turns and looks at him, his lips pursed and wavering, eyes glossy and bright, but simultaneously dark. “Very badly,” he answers, “I _need_ daddy's touch.”

That's all Seongwoo needed to hear, all he needed to see. He leans forward, pressing the tip of his tongue to Jihoon's rim, encircling it once before leaving a wet kiss.

Jihoon's thighs shake. He brings up one arm and bites down painfully on it to muffle his voice. Seongwoo briefly considers just letting him yell, letting him scream, letting anyone find them and see that the beautiful Park Jihoon belongs to him, letting them see how utterly desperate and broken Jihoon can become under his hands.

But Seongwoo also wants to make Jihoon suffer. So he doesn't say anything, just presses his tongue firmly to Jihoon's rim again, but still not puncturing the ring of muscle.

Jihoon ruts back against his mouth, his hips gyrating in jerky little circles. “ _Please_ ,” he whines, but Seongwoo doesn't heed his pleas. He roughly grabs Jihoon by his hips, digging his fingers in painfully as he holds him in place for a moment.

“Be a good boy,” he reminds, “and obey daddy.”

He hears Jihoon swallow and sees him nod, his hips having stopped moving.

Seongwoo continues. He draws slow circles around Jihoon's rim before pulling back, relishing in the sight of watching that muscle clench and unclench, each time another wave of lust being sent towards him. But he can hold off, he wants to elicit that one reaction from Jihoon that makes his blood rush, that he loves to see and he thinks makes his little boy even more beautiful than ever.

He works his way up painstakingly slowly, only working in the tip of his tongue before pulling out and watching Jihoon's thighs shake. He can only imagine what the boy's cock looks like now, hard and flushed and leaking, all because of Seongwoo. And then he smiles, pushing in his tongue further, until it's buried all the way in and he explores, moving his tongue back and forth and licking and sucking, pleasing himself with the reactions he's getting as much as Jihoon is enjoying his little show.

“Daddy,” Jihoon whispers, his voice pitched much higher than before, “daddy's tongue is so good, please, I want daddy to please lick me more--”

Seongwoo roughly pinches Jihoon's thigh. Jihoon lets out a muffled squeal, his elbows temporarily folding from his loss of control.

Seongwoo does what he wants, continues moving his tongue, in and out and back and forth, fucking into Jihoon with that mouth of his, sometimes his eyes flitting up and watching Jihoon's back quiver with the effort to keep himself from folding over.

And then when Jihoon lets out a particularly rough squeal, his thighs shaking impossibly hard, the word “daddy” slipping out of his mouth like a mantra, Seongwoo stops. He stands up, but Jihoon doesn't even notice, his whole body is shivering and flushed, his shoulder blades sticking out as he leans forward onto the table.

“I’m-- I'm--” he begins, and Seongwoo knows what's going to happen. But he doesn't let it happen, because he quickly maneuvers his hand around, wrapping his index finger and thumb around the base of Jihoon's cock.

Jihoon makes a garbled noise, both painful and pleasing, his release being denied but finally having some sort of touch from Seongwoo.

“Don’t come until daddy says so,” Seongwoo whispers, harshly, in Jihoon's ear.

And then Jihoon turns around to look at him, and Seongwoo nearly comes just from the look he gets.

It's what he's been waiting for all this time.

Jihoon's eyes are wide, impossibly glassy and shiny. His face is so, so pink and flushed, as if he'd been running a marathon. But his lips tremble even more now, and Seongwoo can see tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “It hurts, daddy,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

“Then cry,” Seongwoo says, a sly smile on his lips, “let daddy see you cry.”

And Jihoon does exactly that, tears beginning to spill, his eyes reddening and puffy and wet, and Seongwoo is just turned on so much by how beautiful his baby boy looks when he cries. “Good boy,” he praises, relishing in the small sniffles Jihoon produces. He roughly pulls on the boy's hair, tilting his head back slightly as he licks up those tears, tracing a path from his cheek to the corner of his eye.

Jihoon cries even more at the action, and Seongwoo is so, so, so painfully aroused, he can feel his cock twitch and strain in his pants, begging to be released, begging to be engulfed inside Jihoon like it's been many times before.

Seongwoo's hand shakes as he taps on the inside of Jihoon's thighs, telling him to spread his legs more. Jihoon instantly complies, still sniffing, and Seongwoo sticks his fingers in the boy's mouth. Without even saying anything, Jihoon begins to suck desperately, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth as he coats Seongwoo's fingers thoroughly.

Seongwoo lets out a muffled groan, imagining what his cock would feel like inside that sinful mouth instead of his fingers. But that's a thing for another time. For now, he's focused on running his slicked fingers around Jihoon's rim, paying close attention to how the boy's body twitches with his touch, how he's panting so hard, the sounds he makes rough and whiny.

Seongwoo grabs his chin, turning his head to face him. “Look at me,” he orders, “look at your daddy.” And then Jihoon nods, his lips pursed and still trembling, tears never having stopped dripping down his cheeks. His eyes are redder and puffier than before, and Seongwoo is so, so, so painfully hard, he's beginning to lose control too.

He presses his index finger in, slowly, letting it sit there in Jihoon's tight heat, so tight even though they do this often. Maybe he does have small hips and a small waist, but Seongwoo always stretches him wide and nicely, enough to take in all of his cock in one movement.

Jihoon closes his eyes, quivering as he swallows.

“So pretty,” Seongwoo whispers, again, because he just can't get enough of how _pretty_ Jihoon is like this. He's momentarily utterly grateful that he's got someone like Jihoon, someone he can bend and break under his hands but simultaneously _loves_ to be bent and broken.

He adds another finger, slowly, and begins to move them around, pressing the inside of Jihoon's walls firmly, rubbing his fingertips teasingly and lightly before starting to scissor, the movement slow. Jihoon positively mewls at the touch, rutting back against Seongwoo's hand, leaning forward and sticking his ass up more. But Seongwoo doesn't speed up his movements, even when he moves up to a third and then even a fourth finger, watching Jihoon's rim stretch around his fingers with a lustful fascination. Such a small body, so tight at first, but now he's taking in four fingers like a champ, and Seongwoo can't wait to see what that pretty rim of his will look like stretched around the girth of his cock.

He presses his fingers, purposely avoiding where Jihoon's prostate is at first, and the boy makes frustrated noises, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Please,” he begs, again, “daddy, touch me more, daddy please, please please--”

And then Seongwoo grazes his fingertips against Jihoon's prostate, and Jihoon almost collapses onto the table. “ _Yes_ ,” he breathes out, “more, please, _please_ \--”

Seongwoo just presses his fingerpads on that bundle of nerves, leaving them there for a few long moments.

Jihoon bites down on his wrist, muffling his groans as he squeezes his eyes shut painfully. He tries to move his hips, tries to get more of that delicious stimulation, but Seongwoo has an iron grip on his hip.

And then Seongwoo begins to stroke. Just lightly, slowly, as if he were trying to tickle Jihoon. Jihoon is now almost flat against the table, his chest heaving with each breath he takes, drool falling from the corner of his mouth and tears still gathering at the corners of his eyes. _Absolutely beautiful,_ Seongwoo thinks. He grabs the back of Jihoon's head harshly, pulling his hair and arching his neck painfully. Jihoon makes a strained noise, but it's all swallowed by Seongwoo, licking his way filthily into his mouth.

Jihoon reciprocates, desperate, wet, his mouth making sucking noises as he seeks any sort of stimulation, anything to send him over the edge because Seongwoo's careful stroking on his prostate is just barely _not enough._ “Please,” he pants, into Seongwoo's mouth, “daddy, I'm so close, so--” and then Seongwoo stops, retracting his hand.

Jihoon groans at the loss of stimulation. “Why,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as more tears spill.

“Baby doesn't come until daddy tells him to,” Seongwoo reminds, his words a hot whisper in Jihoon's ear.

“D-Daddy,” Jihoon stutters, his voice shaky and high, “it hurts so much, Jihoon hurts so much.”

And then Seongwoo strokes his hair, his lips almost pressed against Jihoon's ear, and asks, “What do you want, baby? Tell daddy.”

Jihoon lets out a muffled sob, biting on his lip. “I want daddy's cock,” he says, “please, I want daddy's cock inside of me, Jihoon hurts so much, and daddy's cock will make Jihoon feel so much better.” He ruts, needy, against Seongwoo's bulge, and Seongwoo sharply intakes his next breath.

He looks so desperate, so broken, that Seongwoo can't take it anymore. He unzips his pants, letting them drop to the floor along with his boxers, and spits in his palm, rubbing it against his cock. _Oh god_ , he thinks, and he nearly lets out a cry at the first stimulation his dick has had the whole time. But he bites his lip and powers through it, coating himself before grabbing into Jihoon's hips and lining up his head with the boy's entrance.

Jihoon's rim flexes at the anticipation. He moans softly just at the touch of Seongwoo's head with his hole, and his voice becomes stuck in his throat and his head is thrown painfully back as Seongwoo begins to push in, slowly.

They both let out breaths they didn't know they were holding when Seongwoo bottoms out. He pauses there, for a moment, trying to resist the urge to just pound into that heat. And once he collects himself, he begins to pull out, painfully slowly.

Jihoon's fingernails are scratching against the table, his voice a blubbering mess, muffled as his face is pressed into the wood. Seongwoo enjoys seeing him like this, enjoys gradually pushing him to the edge, step by step, with him leading the way.

And when only the head remains inside Jihoon, Seongwoo slams back in with full force, all the way until he's buried at the hilt again.

Jihoon is unable to resist, unable to muffle the cry that falls out of his lips, from both a little bit of pain and plenty of pleasure. Seongwoo grabs at his hair, yanking his head back, and whispers harshly, “What did daddy say about being quiet?”

“I'm sorr--” Jihoon begins, but Seongwoo doesn't allow him to finish.

“This is the last time daddy will remind you,” he growls, “or would you like someone to see us, hmm? See you bent over, being split apart by daddy's cock in your ass and crying? See you so vulnerable, begging for more as daddy pounds mercilessly into you? Would you like that?”

Jihoon's eyes are wide, his movements frozen. He shakes his head.

“Turn your head,” Seongwoo says. Jihoon does as he's told, and Seongwoo slides four of his fingers into Jihoon's mouth. Jihoon abruptly chokes, spit frothing at the corners of his lips, but he lets Seongwoo keep his fingers there.

“Since baby can't keep his mouth shut, daddy has to do something about it. Do you understand?”

Jihoon nods. He swallows, and Seongwoo feels the muscles in his mouth flex against his fingers, and the sudden warmth and wetness only adds to the heat in his lower stomach.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” Seongwoo orders. “As your punishment, you're only allowed to come from daddy's cock.”

More tears slip out of Jihoon's eyes as he folds his wrists behind his back. “Good boy,” Seongwoo coos, before slowly pulling out and slamming back into Jihoon with as much force as before.

Jihoon's body shakes with each thrust. He can't even move properly in his current position, his hands pressed behind his back as he's leaned forward, gagging on Seongwoo's fingers.

Seongwoo continues this pace, slow and then suddenly fast, purposely avoiding Jihoon's prostate, just to get the boy riled up even more. Get him even more needy, break him down further before Seongwoo finally gives him what he wants.

Jihoon is almost full on sobbing, his lips mouthing words against Seongwoo's fingers, his eyes wide and wet, skin shiny with sweat and anticipation. He chokes harshly after several more thrusts, and Seongwoo finally relents.

He begins to thrust quickly, powerfully, aiming right where he knows Jihoon's sweet spot is, and he hits it on the first attempt. Jihoon's body jerks at the feeling, even more drool dribbling out of his mouth, and Seongwoo can feel the warm wetness against his fingers. He relishes how Jihoon easily takes him in on each thrust, admiring how such a small body can handle such a beating. But then again, Jihoon is used to this, and he likes -- no, he _loves_ it rough, he loves it when Seongwoo is merciless with him like he is now, and Seongwoo pulls back on his head by tugging in the fingers inside his mouth, and Jihoon's neck is craned at a painful angle, the spit frothing from his lips like a stream.

Seongwoo loves how his small body bends to accommodate him, loves the warmth of such a tight heat engulfing his cock, and his movements are becoming erratic as that coil in his lower abdomen is wringing tighter and tighter. Jihoon is so close too, his thighs shaking unbearably, the only thing keeping him up is Seongwoo's cock inside him. He's a real mess now, his whole body damp, eyelashes clumped together with tears, lips red and swollen from biting on them and Seongwoo's tugging.

Seongwoo leans forward. He can't keep this up much longer. “You can come if you want,” he whispers, in Jihoon's ear, and Jihoon chokes around his fingers at his words, blinking rapidly and breaths absolutely desperate.

It's only a few thrusts more before his body shakes violently, his cries gagged by the fingers in his mouth, and Seongwoo sees spurts of white on the table as he continues to pound into Jihoon as the boy rides out on his orgasm. It's only several seconds later that Seongwoo himself is coming, biting into Jihoon's shoulder to muffle his groans.

He nearly collapses on top of Jihoon after his release, just barely managing to pull out without his knees giving way beneath him.

There's a dribble of come leaking out of Jihoon, and Seongwoo instinctively reaches out a finger to collect it and push it back in.

“I can't--” Jihoon chokes, “no round two, _please_.”

Seongwoo laughs. “Sorry,” he apologizes, “come was kind of leaking out of you and--”

Jihoon quickly turns around, nearly tripping because his pants and underwear are at his ankles. But he recovers himself, and hastily pulls up his clothing. Seongwoo can't be the only one standing there half-naked, so he does too.

“Hyung,” Jihoon sniffs, both because he's still crying from the sex and because he's entirely embarrassed, “never, ever, do that to me again.”

Seongwoo smiles. “Why not?” he asks. “You have to admit, that was kind of exciting.”

Jihoon rubs his forehead, shaking off the sweat that comes off on his hand. He looks away, his face as red as ever. “How are we going to clean this up?” he asks, and then when he tries to walk, he nearly falls over, wincing.

Sure enough, there's a variety of bodily fluids on the table. Tears, saliva, come, mainly.

Seongwoo laughs. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to Jihoon's forehead. “Go sit down,” he says, “I'll go to the bathroom and find paper towels.”

“But this is--” Jihoon begins, and Seongwoo shakes his head.

“Was I a little too rough?” Seongwoo asks.

Jihoon meekly says, “No. You were perfect.” And then he adds, rubbing his lower back, “Although I'm a little sore.”

Seongwoo kisses him on the cheek. “I'll carry you home, then,” he says, simply.

Jihoon splutters, looking at his boyfriend. He's about to protest, but when he moves his hips he feels that heaviness again, so he just sighs, and says, “Okay.”

Seongwoo walks off, in search for paper towels.

Jihoon just hopes no one comes over and asks him what the mess is.

* * *

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> i will rise and sINK WITH THIS SHIP
> 
> give V your applause if you enjoyed this because she's the one that planted ongwink in my head


End file.
